.LIBRARY OF CONGRESS,; 






UNITED STATES OF AMERICA, t 



ficcC 



REVIEW; 

OR, THE 

WAGS OF WINDSOR. 
IN TWO ACTS. 

By G. COLMAN, the younger, 

AUTHOR OF JOHN BUIL, POOR GENTLEMAN, 
&C. &C. 

AS PERFORMED 



NEW-YORK THEAT 



<, 



^^^r\ 



IKO^ THE PROMPT-BOOK V> _^ ^ 

_^-^-'**iSK*«o« of t^f Manager. \ / ^ 







V 



■^\, 



DRAMATIS PERSONiE. 



tV^, 



Mr. Deputy Bull, Mr. Johnson. 

Captain Beaugard, .... Mr. Martin. 
Looney Mactwojlcr, , . . Mr. Tyi.er. 

John Lump, Mr. Hogg. 

Caleb Quotem, .,,.., Mr, Harwood, 

Charlfcs Williams, Mr, Shapter. 

Dubbs, . Mr, Hallam, Jun. 

Serjeant, , Mr. Robinson. 

Grace Gaylove, .,,... Mrs. Hailam. 

Lucy, Mrs, Darby. 

Phcebe Whitethorn, , . » . Miss Hogg, 



Y THE REVIEW. 

ACT I. SCENE I* 

Windsor camp, (Sun rising.) 

Captain Beaugarh discovered, — Serjeant and 
soldiers picturesquely grouped before the tents. 

MEDLEY. 

When the lark in xther singing, 
' Tunes his matins to the skies, 
* Briskly from the straw-bed springing, 
* Jolly soldiers, rise! 

* While here in camp wc lie, 

* Dull sorrow we defy ; 

* No care can damp our joys, 
' We're merry english boys ! 

< Oh ! when the gay reveillez sounds, 

< From earth's fresh lap the soldier bounds; 
' Then rub a dub dub, the drummer goes, 

< And toota toota too, the fifer blows. 

* We are soldiers of Britain, we revel and sing, 
'We are staunch in the cause of our country 
and king. 

Beau. Serjeant ! 

Serj. Here, noble captain ! 

Beau. We must be in excellent order to-mor* 
row, when his majesty comes from Windsor to 
reyiew us* 



4 THE RBYiaw; OB, THE [^ColmaH, jr* 

Serj, It shall do his royal eyes good to see 
us, your honor. 

Beau, I trust it will, Serjeant. Our king 
has the feelings of a father for his subjects ; 
and a father's heart must surely be touch'd, 
when so many of his children flock round him 
in times of trouble, anxious to shew their af- 
fection and duty. 

Strj, Huzza, your honor ! and he that writes 
the life of king George, is but a bungler, if he 
leaves out that serjeant Higginbottom loved him. 

Beau» Well said, Serjeant Higginbottom 1 now 
send the young volunteer to me, who entered 
last night. 

Sirj. Harry Bloomly, captain ? 

Beau, The same ; and hark'ye, serjeant, 
should the pretty little gipsey girl, that came to 
my tent yesterday, want to speak with me, be 
sure to see her safe and quietly through the lines. 

Serj, Ahem! let me alone, your honor, 

f archly,) 

Beau, Nay, nay ; no soldiers' jokes now, 
master Serjeant. I have particular reasons that 
this girl, whatever she may seem, may pass un- 
molested by your men ! 

Serj. Never fear, captain ; though a petticoat 
may be a little patch'd a soldier loves it too well^^ 
to insult the wearer of it. 

\_exity with soldiers* 

Beau, This gipsey disguise of Lucy's, which 
I intended to make her avoid notice in the camp, 
I fear renders her more conspicuous—she had 
better come with her dispatches, from my fair 



WAGS OF WINDSOR, 5 

little quaker of Windsor, in the real character 
of chambermaid. — Oh ! here she is ! 

Enter Lugy, as a gipscy* 

Lucy* Captain Beaup;ard ! 

Bcau^ Ah, my little Lucy ! 
" Disguis'd, among the greeks, from tent to tent, 
*« In tatters, thus the paphian goddess went." 

Lucy, Your soidier fellows are devils — they 
gave me no less than eight kisses as I came 
along, for I counted them. 

Beau, Keep a fair reckoning, Lucy, (kisses' 
htr.J 

Lucy. That makes nine — thei;^e's luck in odd 
numbers, they say — let me look at your palm, 
captain, and I'll tell your fortune. 

Beau, I must cPoss your hand first, Lucy. 
(gives money, J 

Lucy, Gold ! thank you captain ! 1 wish you 
were a general ; here's a line (looking at his 
handj that tells me you will change your quar- 
ters, in half an hour. 

Beau, That's a lying line I believe, Lucy. 
^ Lucy. Never trust the stars, then ; for your 
fate decrees — but, I must give it you in high 
sounding language, for the fates are pompous : 
Captain you must to Windsor-town repair, 
Where I for you this summer day have hir'd 
A neat first floor, at one pound one per week, 
. Beau, For the better carryiiig on our plans, 
I suppose — but explain 

Lucy, Mr» Deputy Bull, my master, grows 



6 THE review; or, the iCelmarijjr* 

very suspicious of his ward, the merry young '■■ 
quaker, my mislress. 
Beau, My mistress, you mean, Lucy ! 
Lucy, My coming here, day after day, will 
be discovered ; so I have hired lodgings for 
you, in the town of Windsor here, where we 
may have easier communication* 
Beau, Who is my landlord ? 
Lucy. The parish clerk :— Caleb Quotem. 
Beau. Damn that fellow, he's the laugh of all 
Windsor, he ,has more trades than hairs on his 
wig ; and more tongue than trades— *he'll talk 
me to death. 

Lucy. But the parish clerk, captain, is the 
readiest road, for you to the parson. 
Beau, Well — 1 know his house. 
Lucy. Go there, then immediately — we are 
in a strange state at Mr. Deputy Bull's, every • 
hour may bring something new ; and 1 may 
have occasion to give you intelligence in the 
course of the day* 

Beau. I'll prepare di^^ectly ; how shall I get 
you through the lines? 

Lucy. Leave that to me — I'll cant my way ia. 
the true gipsey stiie ;— only hear me I 

SONG.— Lucy. '' 

A poor little gipsey I wander forlorn, 
My fortune was told long before I was born; 
So fortunes I tell, as forsaken I stray, 
And in search of ray lover, I'm lost on my way* 

Spare a halfpenny I 
Spare a poor little gipsey, a halfpenny ! 



WAGS OF WINDSOR. 7 

I fear from this line you have been a sad man, 
J, And to harm us poor girls, have form'd many a 

plan ; 
. But beware least repentance too late cause you 
pain, 
And attend to the lesson I give in my strain. 
.' Spare a halfpenny, &g. 

>' ' [exit, 

Bsau, I must now prepare for my new lodg- 
ings. — Oh ! here comes Harry BloomJy. 

[Enter PnaBE Whitethorn, dressed as a pri- 
vate soldier- 

Beau. So, my young fellow, you are equipt, I 
see — a smart stripling enough in your regi- 
^mentals ! 

■ Phoe. The men say I don't look amiss in 
them, captain. 

. Beau, As you applied to^me last night, when 
you came to the camp, I had a curiosity to see 
you this morning— how came you to enlist ? 

Phoe. To serve his majesty captain ; and to 
help to give his enemies a drubbing. 

Bfau. Bravely spoken ! but you begin early, 
youngster— before you have any symptoms ©f 
a beard upon your chin. 

Phoe. Oh, captain I I found it would be a very- 
tedious time, if I waited for that : pray, captain, 
if I may make so bold, isn't one Charles Wil- 
liams in your regiment ? 

Beau. He attends on me. 



8 THE review; or, the [Colman,jr, 

Phoe. ("eagerly. J Does he, indeed ! 

Beau. And is one of the handiest fellows in 
the ranks. 

Phoe. And one of the handsomest, I'm sure, 
captain. 

Beau. Do yo»i know any thing of him^? 

Phoe. Yes — no — 1 — that is — I know he is a 
Shropshire lad, and born in the same parish 
with me. 

Beau. Then you are acquainted, it seems ? 

Phoe. Oh. no — not at all acquainted — only 
we were very intimate, to be sure ; and — 

Beau. Not acquainted, but very intimate! 
there is something very suspicious in this ac- 
count, youngster — 1 trust Williams is honest ;•«.- 
but I shall examine him myself— — 

Phoe* O, dear, your honor ! I would not have 
him come to harm on my account, for the world 
— he*s one of the truest-hearted, constant 

Beau. Constant ! 

Phoe. f confused. J Lud ! — what have I said ! 

Beau. Do let me look at you again : — a wo- 
man, by this light, f aside. J » I tell you what, 

* child, there is a particular something about 

< you, that cpnvinces me you are as tight a lit- 

< tie Shropshire lass, as ever danced round the 
' wrekin. 

< Phoe. Pray, pray, your honor, don't betray 

* me! — but you officers, are the very deuce at 

* finding out a particular something about a wo- 
' man. that's the truth on't.* 

Beau. What's your name ? 
Phoe. Phoebe Whitethorn, sir. 



WAGS OF WINDSOR. 9 

Beau. So ! — love for Williams, I see has 
made a soldier of you, my pretty Phosbe. 

Phoe. Sure enou.^h, and so it has. — If ever a 
witch wore a red coat, your honor is one, I'll be 
sworn. 

Beau. But why do you follow a man, my poor 
girl, who has deserted you ? 

Phoe. He's no deserter, your honor; he's as 
true to his love as to his king ; but when his fa- 
ther died last Christmas without a penny, and I 
was poor too, what could be done, yotir honor ? 
if we had married, twenty to one, we should have 
had a family, and then how could we support 
them, you know ! 

Beau, Very naturally reason'd, indeed. 

Phoe. And so, your honor, poor Charles en- 
listed, and bid me f^ood bye, till he could make 
a fortune, and come back to me ; but when he 
was ^one, I thought it would be long before my 
Charles v/ould be made a general, and grow 
rich, so I determin'd to follow him, and — and 
here I am your honor. 

Beau, VVell, well, child ; keep quiet for a short 
time — it is not usual to enlist women, indeed ; 
but one way or other, I will undertake your for- 
tunes — go to your post, and be cautious. 

Phoe. Oh, never fear captain ; you have given 
me such spirits, that I shall pass for a merry 
little soldier — they shan't discover me, I war- 
rant you, captain. 



\9 THE REVIEW ; OR, THE [Colmanyju 

SONG— Ph ex BE. 

f { 

A tight merry soldier I 'II swagger away, 
And threaten the foes of old England .to drub.'; 
I'll rise, for parade, by the break of the day : 
When rous'd by the sound of the rub a dub dub. 

In camp I'll be merry, and each afternoon 
When duty is over, and nothing to do ; 
I'll cry " little fifer, come strike up a tune," 
And jig it away to his toota too too. 

To be clean on the march^ will he always my 

pride, 
My spatterdash neat and my hair in a club ; 
And if my dear lover should march by my side, 
My heart will beat quick to the rub a dub dub. 



SCENE IL 

An apartment in the house of mr. Deputy Bull 
at Windsor. 

Enter Deputy Bull and Grace Gaylove, 

Bull. Suppose I did sell a fev/ figs upon Lud^ 
gate-hill, v/hy must you be quizzing my origin • 

Grace, I quiz thee not, friend Bull, thotigh 
thou did'st deal in grocery. 

Bull. Grocery be damnM ! arn't I, now, mr. 
Deputy Bull, of Portspken-ward, with my car- 
riage and country-house here at Windsor, all 



WAGS OF WiNDSOit. U 

in taste — I retire here for fresh air — and yoa 
slap tea and treacle in my chops. — Didn't Oba- 
diah Gaylove, your father, on his death-bed, 
make you my ward ? 

Grace. Yea— ^being then exceeding weak, he 
appointed thee my guardian. '■, 

Bull. Then you should mind what I say : 
and, I say, Grace Gayiove, you don't go to the 
review to-morrow. 

Grace* Verily, Bull, the truth is not in thee, 
^or I will behold the men-of-war perform their 
exercise, and at night when the youths and mai- 
den, do assemble to the sounds of minstrelsey— 

.,^^:'BmII. Well, what then ? 

y^\l, Grace. Then reels and jigs will I dance. 
''~" Bull, A pretty quaker you are to be dancing 
reels and jigs at a ball ! this mad captain Beau- 
gard has bewitched you. 

Grace. That same captain Beaugard saved 
mj life, friend Bull, when the pleasure-barge 

' did overset at Datchet, he sprang from the 
shore and plucked me from the waters. 

Bull. And left me sinking in a mud-hole, and 
be damn'd to him— with my legs jam'd into an 
eel-basket. If I hadn't catch'd hold of Nep* 
tunes pitchfork, at the end of the boat, I should 
have gone to the bottom like a lump.of sugar, in 
a tea-cup. 

' ^" Grace* Ha ! ha! when I beheld thee dripping 
without thy perriwig, thou didst remind me of 

, 4n old weazel, on its hinder legs. 
"" Bull, Upon my soul, I am very much obliged 
to yoUj madam Grace! this captain and your 



12 THE review; OB, THE IColman, jf, 

tumble in the Thames, have plaguUy unstkrch'^ 
yourmanners. '"' •-'—'* 

Grace, Yea, afier my falling in the waters, t 
became a wet quaker. 

Bull. Well> wet or dry, get you up to your 
chamber. 

Grace. Yea! — hum. . 

Bull. And you'll promise me never to thinlk 
of this Beaugard again. ' * 

Grace. Nay! — hum. 

Bull. Damn me if you shall hum me, Iwish 
I had never heard of such a thing as a soldier. 

Grace. Then, friend Bull? thou hadst never 
made ihy fortune by figs— for a soldier, is the 
protectorof commerce, and claimeth the trades- 
man's respect and gratitude :— he also protect- 
eth the fair, and a soldier findeth favor in my 
eye. Thou understandest me — hum. f archly i J 

Bull.. Oh, yes, I do understand ydii—tiiS^s 
as much as to say, I li a ve twenty thbUsahd 
pounds when I come of age, and I'll fol,lo;Hr my 
owH inclinations. . • *-' ' '^'t". """"^ 

Mar. Here's a map,, sir, eoipeftftCTtfie^^ 

man's place. , . -. i: 

i Bull. 1 .hope he's civiler-than the Iast|j^ow. | 
^^Does he look modest ? '• 

Mar. Oh, yes, sir — he's an irishman. , , 
r Bull. Well, we are used to them in the Bull 
family*-^let me see him*xr/;i rr t^^'^ M^artha. 
I hope I shall be able to keep a servant at last 



WAGS OF WINDSOR. 13 

—they are all so confounded saucy to me, be- 
cause I have been a grocer. 

Enter Looney Mactwolter. 
<"■■.'. 

Bull. So you v/anl a place ? 
Loon. You may say that, with your own ugly 
mouth. 

Bull, My ugly mouth ! — you have been in 
service before. 

Loon, Does a duck swim ? , 

Bull. Who have you liv'd with ? 
Loon. I lived with the Mactwolter's nineteen 
years, and then they turn'd me off. 

Bull, The Mactwolter's ! — why did they 
- turn you off i" 

Loon. They went dead. 

Bull. That's an awkward way of discharg- 
ing a servant— who were they ? 
. Loon. My own beautiful father and mother, 
'they died of a whisky fever, and left myself, 
Looney Mactwolter, heir to their estate. 
. Bull. Then they had an estate, it seems, 
'' Loon. Yes, they had a pig. 
'"*' Bull. Umph ! — but they died, you say, when 
you were nineteen ;' what have you been doing 
ever since ? 

Loon. I'm a physicianer. 
Bull, The devil you are ! 
ill Loon. Yes; — -I'm a cow-doctor. 

Bull, And what bi ought you here? , . , 
Loon. Hay-making — look ! this is a forki' 
Bull. Well, 1 see that. 



H THE review; or, the [Colman^ jf. 

Loon. Hire me ; then I'll have a knife to it, 
and prettily I'll toss about your beef, nflr. Bull. 

Bull, I don't doubt you — this fellow wouid, 
ram a cart-load of church steaks down his 
throat, with a paving rod. What can you do 
as a footman ?— can you clean plates ? 

L&on. Clean a^ plate !— botheration, man, 
would you have me for your kitchen-maid ? rrc 

BulL Do you t%ink, Looney, you could con- 
trive to beat a coat ? 

Loon. Faith can I, in the Connaught. fashion* 

BulL How's that? 

Loon. With a man in it. Och. let me'alonc 
for dusting your old jacket, mr. BulL 

Bull.' The devil dust you, say I. 

Loon. Be aisey, and I'll warrant W.e,'ll 
agree ; give me but what I ax, and we'll never 
tumble out about th^ wages. 

Enter Martha." -• 

Mar... Tljier^'s a>}other man come after tfee 
place., I believe, sir. 

Bull. Let me see him. [cjcti Martha. 

Loon, Faith, now you'll bother yourself be- 
twixt us — you'll be like a cat in a tripe shop, and 
not know wliere to ohose. . 

Enter Lump. 

Lump, Be you, mr. Bull, zur? 

Bull. Yes, I'm the deputy. 

Lump. Oh, if you are nabut the deptitJF, I'll 
bide here till I sees mr. Bull himself. 

Bull, Blockhead! I am himself— mr. Depu* 
tyBulh ■ ' '' •" - 



15 

Loon. Arrah can't 5^ou see, man, that this 
ugiy old gentleman is himself. 

BulL Hold your tongue — what's your name ? 

JLump. John Lump. 

J^ulL And what do you want, John Lump ? 

Lump. Why, I'se com'd here, zur ; — but as 
i we be upon a bit of business, I'll let you hear 
the long and the short on't — f draws a chair and 
sits down J I'se com'd here, zur, to hire my- 
self for your sarvant. 

Bull^ Ha — but you don't expect, I perceive, 
to have any standing wages. 

Loon, fdratving a chair and sitting down on the 
$ther side ofQuW.) Arn't you a pretty spalpeen, 
now, to squat yourself down there, in the pre* 
sence ofmr. Deputy Bull? 

Bull. Now here's a couple of scoundrels ! 

Loan. Don't be in a passion with him — miad 
how I'll learn him politeness. 

Bull. Get up directly, you villain, or — 

Loon. ( complimenting. J ^oih^fovQ J xtiT.l^Mrm^ 
■'--see how I'll give him the polish. 

Bull, If you don't get up directly, I'll squeeze 
your two heads together, like two figs in a jar. 
_ Lump. frising.J Oh, then, it's unmannerly 
for a footman to rest himself, I suppose. 

Loon. frising.J To be sure it is — no sarvant 
has the bad manners to sit before his master, 
but the coacjiman. 

Lump. I ax your pardon-, zur, I'se na but a 
poor yorkshire lad, trayelld up from Doncaster 
races — I'se simple, zur. but I'se willing to larn ? 

BulL Simple and willing to learn ? two good 



16 THE REVIEW, OR, THE [Colman, jr. 

qualities, master Lump, which will answer my 
purpose. 

Loon. Mind what you're after going to do. 
mr, Deputy Bull, if you hire this fellow from 
the donkey races, when Looney Mactwolter is 
at yoir el.)Oiv I'll mike f:'ee to say yau're mak- 
ing: a complete judy of yourself. 

Bull You do make free with a vengeance ! — 
now I'll mike free to say, get you out of my 
bouse, you la nu'd impudent cow-doctor ! 

Loon. You're no scholar, or you'd larn how to 

bemean yourself to a pliysicianer. Arrah. is'nt 

a cow doctor as good as you. you ould fi.^ man. 

Bu^L Oid fi^ man ! — this rascal too, quizzing 

my origin.- — -^jti down stairs ! or 

L^on. Dj:1 t com? over me with the pride of 
your stairs, for hav'nt my father a comfortahle 
ladder to go up and down stairs with ? — to the de- 
vil I pitch you. mr. D puty Bull — take mr. 
Lump into your dirty sarvjce ; and next time 
I'm after meeting him, I'll thump mr. Lump,^ 
or mr. Lump shall tnump mr. Looney Mact- 
wolter. [tfjcit. 
Bntl, That Irish bogtrotter has no more 

shame 

L'^wz.^. Noa zur ; he ben't sham-^ful at ail- 
but, zur. you'll fiid I a very sham:;'\il sar^'ant . 

Bull. Then loak you. John Lump you shall 
have the same wages as my last footman ; and 
if you are a vtry faithful lad, I'll give you a 
french half crown for a Christmas box. 

Lump> Thank ye, zur ; thank ye— if it was 
but five shillings 



WAGS OF WINDSOR. 17 

Bull. You must know, John Lump, I have 
a ward — you never saw my ward ? 

Lump. Noa, zur ; I seed one once in York 
hospital. 

Bull. Pshaw, you blockhead ! — this is a 
young lady ; I must employ you to watch her 
day and night — she is now in her chamber. 

Lump. Then she and I be to sleep in the 
same room, I suppose. 

Bull. Nonsense ! but come to my apartment 
in a quarter of an hour, and I'll explain all. 

igoing. 

Lump. Zur I 

Bull. Well! 

Lump. Good bye, till I see you again, zur. 

Bull, Pshaw I [_exit. 

Enter Grace Gaylove. 

Grace. If this man be hired, him will I sub- 
orn to circumvent my guardian. Friend ! 

Lump. Eh! 

Grace. Art thou the new serving man ? 

Lump, Yes. 

Grace, Dost thou love mammon ? 

Lump, Noa ; I loves Dolly Duggin — she and 
I kept company. 

Grace, He is simple, and understandeth not 
parables : i will commune with him in a lan- 
guage all ranks comprehend. Friend, here's 
a guinea for thee. 

Lump, Is there — by gum ! 

Grace. Take it. 

Lump, I wool. 



rs THE review; or, the iColman^ jr, 

Grace, Cheat thy master, and serve me. 

Lump. I wool. 

Grace. Dost think thou canst trick him well ? 

Lump. Yes — I'se York. 

Grace, Follow me 1 thou comest north, and 
needest few tricking instructions. [cxUm 

Lump. A guinea ! — I think somehow, she is 
taken with my person. I know I'm pretty — ■ 
how nicely it shines ! — well, I'll go a'ter her, 

and see if never fetch me, if it is not my 

opinion, she v/ant's to be mrs. Lump. [exit* 



SCENE III. 

A street in Windsor, with a view of the castle, in 
which is seen Quotem's house — over the door.ti 
board inscribed^ 

CALEB QUOTE M, 

AUCTIONEER, PLUMBER, GLA- 
ZIER, ENGFAVER, APOTHECARY, SCHOOLr 
MASTER, WATCH-MAPIER, SIGN 
PAINTER, &C, &C, 

N. B. This is the PARISH CLERKS'. 
J cure AGUES, and teach the use of the globes, 

Enter Captain Beaugard. 

Beau. This is the house, now for the lodg- 
ings, Lucy has provided for me ; I dread the 
tongue of my landlord. The very board against 
the wall, says more than any of his neighbors. 

[^going to the door. 



Wags of Windsor. 19 

Enter Looney Mactwolter. 

Loon, That Deputy Bull is the biggest beast 
in this parish — whatever's the next. 

Beau. Bull ! zounds, my little quaker's guar- 
dian. What do you know of Deputy Bull, 
pray ? 

Loon. I know a donkey driver's his wallet de 
sham, beCciuse he can't see I'm the dandy. 

Beau. You are a servant he has discharged, 
I suppose ? 

Loon. Indeed, and he did that thing — he 
turn'd off Looney Mactwolter before he hired 
htm ; it wasn't genteel : and now he has got a 
Lump. 

Beau. A lump ! what's that ? 

Loon. Why sure, and isn't it a footman ? I'll 
be even with mr. Bull, before he can say dump- 
lings. 

Beau, As I must probably carry off my mis- 
tress from the deputy's, a stout fellow or two 
about me may be necessary. This irishman — 
friend, what say you to serring me ? I give good 
pay and good eating. 

Loon. By my soul then, you have a good 
character, I'll hire you for my master. 

Beau. Come to me in this house, I'll give 
you employment. \_exit into Quotem's house. 

Loon. Och, then, good luck to me !^— I'm a 
captain's footman, so now I've got rank in the 
army ; ould Bull the treacle-man, may be cboak'd 
with a big fig, I shall eat shoulder of mutton, 
like an ostrich. {exit* 



2@ TEE review; oh, the [Colman^jr, 

SCENE IV. 

A room in Caleb Quotem's house. 

Enter Captain Beaugard. 
Beau, Considering I can only come here, 
from the camp, occasionally, I shall have a to- 
lerable house full of attendants — let me see — 
Charles Williams 1 have ordered here to wait 
on me — -and little Phoebe Whitethorn, that 1 
may bring the lovers together— then there's 

the irishman, and- 

Caleb Quotp.m. (^without* J 
Quo. Oh! very well, very well, I'll wait on |[ 
the captain directly. ''' 

Beau, Who have we here ? oh, my bore of a 
landlord, I suppose. 

Enter Quotem. 
Quo. Captain, your most obedient. 
Beau, Yours, sir. 

Quo. My name, sir, is Caleb Quotem — -at 
your service ; my father well known in this pa- 
rish, and the country round, as the poet says ; 
sexton and cryer, here, thirty years and up- 
wards ; by trade, a plumber and glazier — to 
which I have added many others, as auctioneer, 
schoolmaster, engraver, watchmaker, sign 
painter, &c. talking of signs, puts me in mind 
of the zodiac — you must know I'm allow'd tc 
possess some knowledge of the sciences — globes 



WAGS OF WINDSOR. 21 

terestial and celestial — tellescopes and house- 
hold furniture — understand all sorts of fixtures- 
magnets and marble slabs — polar stars and cor- 
ner cupboards. 

Beau* Damn the fellow he has travelled over 
both the hemispheres, and now fixed himself 
in a corner cupboard ; — but pray, what may be 
your business Avith me, sir. ^ 

Quo. My business, captain, is that of my 
father, as Shakspeare says — but my reason for 
attending you is — Talking of reason puts me in 
mind of the man in Bedlam, who swore all 
mankind were mad ; for they had locked him 
up, and he couldn't divine the cause : — now this 
man, as the poet says, had " Cool reason on 
his side." — Talking of side, puts me in mind 
of myself — I am behind myself, that is, I threw 
myself beside you, to express how much I am 
** your humble servant," as Dryden says. 

Beau. A mighty expressive sentence indeed, 
mr. Quotem ! 

Qmo. Captain, I shall be happy to serve you, 
on all occasions, I can make or mend pumps 
or windows, paint cupboards, or carriages, re- 
pair watches or . weather-glasses : in short, (as 
a great author says) '* I'm up to every thing." 
Talking of every thing, I write ballads and epi- 
taphs — cut tomb-stones and sell coffin furniture ; 
I shall be glad to serve you with any of these 
articles, at the lowest price, as the poet says. 

Beau. I hope I shan't trouble you for any of 
the last articles soon, mr. Quotem ; your town 
of Windsor is very wholesome. 



ii THE REVIEW, OR, THE [Colman^ JU 

Quo. The'^air is salubrious, and the fields 
look green, as Pope says — yet some way or 
other, people drop away very speedily. 

Beau. VVhy you seem the very picture of 
health. 

Qwo. That's chiefly owing to part of my pro- 
fession, or rather my father's profession — at 
which I always assist. 

Beau. What is that? 

Quo. Grave-making — turning tip the fresh 
earth you know, is very healthful employ ; I 
should like to dig your grave. — Talking of grave- 
making, puts me in mind of physic — do you 
know 1 dabble a little in that way. 

Beau. Indeed! 

Quo. When none of the faculty are on the 
spot, neighbors always call m,e in, being very 
near — several patients — my house — church- 
yard. 

"^eau. Church-yard ! — oh, very near your 
patients — I dare say. 

Quo. Ha ! ha ! come that's a good one — as 
man and boy in this town — been concerned in 
every thing, flimsy aff'airs and weighty matters— * 
how do you think I employ my hours, a day 
nov/ ? — '' A summer's day," as Milton says. 

Beau. I can't guess indeed. 

Quo. Morning, rise at five— -father not up — • 
run to church — ring bell — back to school — look 
over big boys' accounts — teach children cate- 
chism — breakfast at eight — swallow a muffin — 
play tune german flute or fiddle — fright jack- 
daws from chickens— church-yard-^dig graves 



WAGS OF WINDSOR, 2l 

'till ten — run to pinfold — advertise strayed cat- 
tle—make out registers — marriage banns and 
certificates 'till eleven — home — scold wife — put 
pot on the fire — away I go — toll round for pray- 
ers—help curate on with surplice- — run to school 
— whip the boys bottoms—back again time 
enough to cry Amen. — Thus passes my forenoon, 
as Congreve says. 

Beau. Forenoon! zounds, man I ^ you have 
done a day's work already. 

Quo. Talking of work — I dine at one — go 
into shop, pound rosin or rhubarb — same mor- 
tar — mix up ball putty — box of pills — pint of 
paint — dose jalap — mend sash or sign-board— 
repair sun — change moon — blot out seven stars 
• — squint at time-piece — put new wheel to works 
— add weight to kitchen clock — sand to hour- 
glass — main spring to watch, or sucker to pump 
— thus passes my time till four — burying, per- 
haps — never out of the way — boys toll bells — 
at hand to chime in — assist in the service— r 
anthem from Job, " Dust to dust"; — go home, 
and play at blind man's buff, with the boys, 
till six. 

Beau. What a devil of a fellow this is ! 

Quo. Don't interrupt me, captain. 

Beau. Well, then, at six. 

Quo. At six, as the poet says — ^attend at great 
room — auctioneer — knock down household 
goods — going, going, gone — to my shop — cilt 
tomb-stones — write epitaphs — to amuse myself, 
set 'em to music — feed hogs — coop-hens— drive 
i^ucks from the pond — sun-set, night comes on 



24 THE review; or, the [Colman^ jr, 

' — shut up shop — school and vestry — ring cur- 
few — go home chinaney corner — call my wife — 
stir fire — draw cork — smoke pipe — quaff — crack • 
joke — laugh — lie down — or to make out time, 
" wind up the clock," as Yorick says — thus • 
ends the history of a day. 

Beau, Thank heaven 1 his day is done, as the 
poet says ; and here come's some one to pre- 
vent his beginning another. 

Enter Looney Mactwolter. 

Loon* Pray, now, is my new master's name 
Captain Blackguard ? 

Beau. Beaugard, you blockhead ! | 

Loon. Then there's a little hoppy, my thumb ^ 
soldier, axing after you in the passage. 

Beau. That's Phoebe, (aside.) What have 
you done with him? 

Loon. I took him under my arm, and pitch'd 
him down m the landing place, to be ready for 
you. — Here he come ; faith, he's a tasty cock- 
sparrow ! 

Enter PndJBE Whitethorn. 

Beau. Well, my young volunteer ! 

Phoe, I came to know your honor's order. 
Beau, True ; you must remain here for a time 

1 will answer for your being from camp. I 

have something to settle for you here, where 
your presence will be necessary. 

Phoe Musn't I attend the review to-morrow, 
captain ? 

Beau. You shall know that in the morning. 



WAGS OF WINDSOR. 25 

Qmo, The review ! why all the world will be 
there. Great celebrations to-night on the oc- 
casion at our club — all the singers practising 
below in my parlor. I teach *em to troll^ — that's 
another of my trades. Do have 'em up, cap- 
tain ! 

£eau» There's no getting rid of this fellow, 
I perceive. Any thing you please, mr. Quotem. 

Quo. ^calling off. J Here, neighbors! neigh- 
bors !— here they come— ^merry rogues all cap- 
tain! 

Enter Soxdiers. 
Q«(?. Now fire away, as the poet says ! 

FINALE GLEE. 

Life's a bumper, fill'd by fate, 
Let us guests enjoy the treat; 
Nor like silly mortals pass, 
Life as 'twere but half a glass : 
Let this scene with joy be crown 'd! 
Let the glee and catch go round I 
All the sweets of life combine, 
Mirth and music, love and wine ! 



END OF THE FIRST ACT. 



2S THE review; or, the iColmaTifjrf i 

ACT II. SCENE I. 
An apartment in Quotem's house. 
Enter Looney Mactwolter. 

Loon* I "wish my new master would make a 
small parcel of haste. With this letter I'm to 
carry to the quakering lady at oiild Bull's. 
Faith, now he's no green horn, to employ my- 
self, Looney Mactwolter ; I'm at home in a 
love affair, like a flea in a blanket. — Lovel O, 
Judy O'FIannikin, you are at Balrudderry : but 
to be sure, I didn't bother your alabaster heart. 
Cupid, thou sand-blind god, pray look at me ! 
I am your humble servant to command, Looney 
Mactwolter { 

SONG. 

Oh, whack! cupid's a mannikin; 
Smack on my back, he hit me a polter ; 
Good lack! Judy O'FIannikin I 
Dearly she love's neat Looney Mactwolter. 
Judy's my darling, my kisses she suffers ; 
She's an heiress, tis clear, 
For her father sells beer, 
He keeps the sign of the Cow and the Snuffers* 

She's so smart, 

From my heart 

I cannot bolt her. 
Oh, whack I Judy O'FIannikin ! 
She is the girl for Looney Mactwolter. 



,;' WAGS OF WINDSOR. 27 

. bh, hone ! good news I need a bit, 
V/e'd correspond, but learning would choak 

her; 
Marrone ! I cannot read a bid, 
Judy can't tell a pen from a poker.— ^ 
Judy's so constant I'll never forsake het* ; 
She's as true as the moon, 
Only one afternoon, 
; I caught her asleep with a hump-back shoe- 
maker I 

Oh, she's so smart, 
From my heart 
I cannot bolt her. 
Oh, whack! Judy O'Flannikin ! 
. She is the girl for Looney Mactwolter. 

Enter Captain Beaugard. 

Beau. Looney ! 

Loon, That's myself. 

Beau. I order'd a carriage, is it come ? 

Loon, There's a chariot yonder, sure enough, 
only it has never a box, and the coachman 
rides one of the horses. 

Beau, A post-chaise, you blockhead ! order 
the post-boy to drive to the back gate of mr. 
Bull's garden ; — and here's a letter — tis for 
miss Gaylove ; it must be delivered with secre- 
cy, now Looney ; and 

Loon. Be aisey ! I'm as dumb as the parish 
clerk of Killarney. 

Beau. Is he dumb, then ? 

Loon, You may say that :-^they've hang^'d 
him for stealing the church buckets. 



J 



28 THE REVIEW, OR, THS [Cotman^ J¥i 

Beau. This fellow, I f^ar, will make some 
blunder ; but Lucy will be upon the watch, as 
we have agreed. — Now mind, Looney ; you 
will find a person waiting for you on the out- 
side of the garden gate, to that person give this 
letter, then loiter about, till you are joined by 
miss Gaylove, and her maid ; conduct them to 
the post-chaiscr then come with them to the ad- 
vanced guard of the camp, where you will find 
me. 

Loon. I'il do that; — but wfll that bit of a 
machine, think you, hold three of us ? 

Beau* Why, you booby, you must go on the 
outside. 

Loon. Och, with all my heart and soul, if it 
makes no odds to the ladies: the post driver 
rides but one horse you know, so I can sit 
check by jowl with him on the other. , 

Beau. Zounds I get along and .^bi»e.,As^ith f 
the chaise as you will. 

Loon. Let me alone for that, (going. J Who 
knows now but I'll be after meeting mr. Lump 
at ould Bull's — if I do, Lump's head and Loon- 
ey Mactwolter's fist may see which is softest. 

{^e^xit. 

Beau. My little quaker was to have sent me 
a line this morning, to further our operations. 
Some prevention, I suppose, at the deputy's — 
my letter by Looney, and the post-chaise, will> 
I trust, make every thing proceed gliblyt 
Enter Charles Williams. 

Beau, Now W^illiams, what news from the 
camp I 



*' \ WAGS OF WINDSOR. 29 

iVilL His majesty will be upon the ground 
at one, your honor. 

Beau, I shall be there in time for my duty, 
and you must follow me you know, you must 
be upon the watch when all is done, to assist 
in the business I mentioned. 

WitL I shall take care, your honor ! is the 
young lady to be there then ? 

Beau. All is arranged — I have just sent a 
messenger to conduct her to the spot ; and when 
the review is over, we must move quietly off 
through the crowd, to the next village, v/ith- 
out beat of drum., and steal a march upon ma- 
trimony. 

JVilL I wish you joy from the bottom of my 
sotil, your honor — ^^ah ! captain! 'tis a happy 
lot to gain the woman we love. 

Beau. Why you have a devilish melancholy 
way of wishing a man joy, Williams — -you have 
lost the woman yovi love perhaps. 

WUL I, your honor I oh, tisn't for a poor 
fellow like me, to think about marriage. 

Beau. Should you think of it then if you 
were richer ? 

Will. Should I ? ah, your honor. 

Beau. Pho' — I perceive — so you only want to 
make up a purse, that you m.ay quit the army 
for the lass of your fancy. . j .; 

Wilt. No, your honor, I love the army ; and 
if 1 should chance to make a little money in it, 
I wouldn't be so ungrateful as to leave it, as 
long as my king and' country wanted my ser- 
vice ; — but should accident put a few guineas 



so THE review; or, the [Cotmdfi^ jfi 

in my pocket, I would petition your honor, ta 
get me a short leave of absence. 

B:au> For what reason, Williams ? 

WilL Why, then, I would take a journey on 
foot into Shropshire, your honor, that 1 might 
pour my little fortune into the lap of a poor 
girl, who was to have married me, in my better 
days, and whose heart is constant, now my 
prospects are changed. 

Beau. Poor fellow! but don't be down-heart- 
ed, Williams, a soldier, my lad, should never 
despair ! who knows what may happen i* who 
knows now, Williams, but little Phoebe White- 
thorn may be yours at last? 

fTiY/. Phoebe ! — why- — .what, then, does your' 
honor know that — ^why — could 

Beau. Nay, nays don't be surprized that an 
officer knows more of his men, than they arc 
aware ot. — But follow me soon to the camp- 
wait here, however, a few minutes, 1 have a 
person to send to you on a little business, that 
you must bring with you to me ; and, remem- 
ber, Williams, hope and success, should be the 
englisa soldier's motto. [exit» 

Will. What does his honor mean? how can 
he have heard of Phoebe? and he went away 
smiling, to see me uneasy at what he may call 
a trifle ; he does not know how many a night 
I have lain awake, in my tent, with a breaking 
heart, to think my poor Ph^be may be without 
a fnend to shelter her. — Heighho! — perhaps, I 
shall never hear her voice again 1 



WAGS OF WINDSOR. 3t 

Enter VnczBiL Whjtsthorn. 

Phoe. Charles! 

Will, Eh ! — no— yes — why sure it can't be ! 

Phoe. What, have you forgot me, Charles ? 

Will. Is it possible ! Phoebe ! (embracingj for- 
get you ; oh, no ! but how — why— "Why have 
you come here, Phoebe ? 

Phoe. Why because you have come here» 
Charles, I couldn't for my life bear to stay a- 
way any longer. 

Will. My dear Phoebe ! but in this dress too ? 

Phoe. This dress ? oh, that's because I'm en- 
listed. 

Will. Enlisted! 

Phoe Yes ; I'm a volunteer, but the captain 
found me out yesterday. — It made me so asham- 
ed at first ! — for I thought nobody should be a- 
ble to tell if I was a woman but you Charles. 

WilL Phoebe, you fris^hten me, to see you in 
such a place as a camp ! disguised too, expos- 
ed to the rudeness of our men — and what have 
we to hope for, Phoebe ? so poor as we are, you 
know that tisn't possible that 

Phoe. Oh ! never you frighten yourself, about 
that, Charles, I have some news, from our vil- 
lage, that will make your dear heart jump a- 
gain. 

WilL Indeed ! what is it, Phoebe ? 

Phoe. Why, last week, as 1 was crying be- 
fore farmer Sourby's gate; for he had just turn- 
ed me out, because he said I was mopish, and 
could do no work. 

Will. Damn him ! 



32 THE review; or, the [Colman^jr, 

Phoe, Dear! if you have'nt learned to swear 
since you have been a soldier, Charles ! 
WUL Well, Phcebe! 

Plioc, Why, there came lawyer Goodwill, 
all in a hurry — and he told me that I had got a 
fortune. 

Will. A fortune ! 

Phoe* As sure as you are there, Charles, and 
he said that my old uncle Whitethorn, who 
went a sea-faring, just as 1 was born, had died 
in a foreign land, and had given me a good*fif- 
ty pounds a year, as long as ever 1 lived, out of 
the great bank of London. Here's all the pa- 
pers, Charles, (taking thsm out of her bosom) Pve 
kept them very safe for you — and its all yours 
if it was twenty and twenty times as much. 

Will My dear Phoebe, I — (wiping his eyes) 1*11 
speak to you presently. 

Phoe. Dear, what's the matter ? 
Will, Bless you Phoebe 1 tis a comfort to my 
heart to know you have got this money, and I 
would sooner be shot for a deserter, than take 
a penny of it. (Phoebe bursts into tears.) Why 
Phcsbe ! 

Phoe, Ah, Charles! I did'nt change with 
your fortune, why should you change with 
mine ? 

WilL I'd sooner die than change ; I only think 
of your good ; but I musn't live in idleness, to 
coitsume the money you want for yourself, 
Phcebe. 

Phoe. I could never have thought you would 
prove false-hearted at last, Charles ! 



-^v., WAGS OF WINDSOR. 33 

WilL By all that's true, then, if I ccnld but 
get a decent competence by my own industry — 

Phoe. You can soon have that, Charles, while 
you have such a master as his honor the cap- 
tain. 

Will. His honor is very good to me, very 
good to me to be sure, but 

Phoe. Yes, he said he was goinij to be mar- 
ried to-day, and that he'd enable you, if you 
pleased, to be married to-morrow ; so you 
know of course, I told him I was very much 
obliged to him. 

IViU. Did his honor say that? then, Phoebe, 
if that's the case, though I would serve my 
king as long as I am able, we'll never be half 
a day's march asunder, if I should fight fifty 
campaigns. 

Pkoe. Ah, my dear Charles, I'm so happy I 

Will. So am I too, Phcsbe ! 

DUET.- — Wii.LiABis aud Phckee, 
Will. And will my love contented be 

To dwell awhile in camp with me ? 
Phoe, With you around the world I'd roam, 

Nor ever waste a thought on home. 
Both, Then merry round the world we'll go, 

While gaily singing nonino. 
Will, But if retiring from the wars, 

Grown old, and cover'd o'er with scars ? 
Pkos, Then sitting by the cottage door, 

We'll tell old stories o'er and o'er. 
Will, Then I will quaff, 

E 



54 THE review; or, the [Colman^jr, 

Phoe, And I will sing* ! 

As happy as a queen and king. 
J3otk» Happy the evening of our life, 

The ancient soldier and his wife. 

Then merry round, &c. &c. 

[exit 9 

Enter Caleb Quotem. 

Quo, I'm for the review !— a joyous day ! — 
majesty will be there, and so will Caleb Quo- 
tem, the wag of Windsor. Business must 
cease till to-morrow — sun and moon must stand 
still; stray'd cattle must find their own way 
home — as many as they can out of the pound, 
like a bankrupt's shillings : — this is a holliday— 
broken windows, rosin, hens, ducks, rhubarb, 
kitchen clock, and boys' bottoms, may all go 
and be damn'd, as the poet says ! bless me, I'm 
in spirits ! — Dubbs ! 

Enter Dubbs. 

Dubbs. Sir ! 

Quo. Dubbs you know I've made you my man. 

Dubbs, Yes sir. 

Que. There's a review — every body should 
make holliday ; therefore my boy, Dubbs, you 
shall do as much work for me to day as you 
can. 

DuhbS' Thank you, sir. 

Quo, I toll'd the parish bell this morning, 
you must ring it again at three — you can pull 
the rope, Dubbs. 



WAGS OF WINDSOR. o5 

Dubbs, Oh, yes, sir ; you brought me up to 
it, you know. 

Qm<7. So I did, Dubbs — you were brought up 
-to a iope, sure enough ; — I'm a kind master to 
you. Run with my compHments to the widow 
Thumpkin, her husband's dead of a dropsy, and 
can't keep=— but tell her to-day's hoiliday, and 
I hope it will be agreeable to pop the deceased 
mr. Thumpkin into the ground to-morrow. 

Dubbs. Won't she be angry, sir ? 

Quo. Not at all ; — Dubbs, you're a block- 
head ! if a husband were alive; indeed, a lady 
might take the defering his funeral in dudgeon 
—but suppose she did? why, I'ye every thing 
my own way — I'm cock of the walk, as Milton 
says. 

Dubbs, What's to be done with tlie school 
boysj sir? 

Qm<7. Let them do as much mischief as they 
like, I whip'd them all round before breakfast; 
so if they get into a scrape we're quits. 

Dubbs, This is bon-fire night — I warrant 
they'll break half the windows in Windsor. 

Qud. So much the better ; I'm a glazier — I 
deal in putty, as Plutarch says. — ^Look to the 
house, Dubbs, and the business— if any body 
asks if I'm coming, say I'm gone ; if any body 
grumbles at my being gone, say I'm coming^ — 
that's the way great men settle with their cre- 
ditors.- — Go, Dubbs. \_exit Dubbs, 
I shall leave every thing at sixes and sevens — 
Muggs, the publican, will go mad — I've rubb'd 
©ut two legs of his red lion — he must v»-ait till I 



36 THE review; or, the lCohnan,jr, 

can paint fresh cnes— his lion can't run away 
without legs, as the poet says. — I'm for the re- 
view!— -soldiers ! — what if they tried to enlist 
me? for 1 shall be as drunk as a fiddler.— 
Trades must stand still till to-morrow — ^I must 
rehearse my song for our club to-night. 
SONG — -QuoTEM. 

I'm parish clerk and sexton here, 

My name is Caleb Quotem ; 
I'm painter, glazier, auctioneer : 
In short I am factotem. 
I make a watch — I mend the pumps ; 

For plumbers work my knack is ? 
I physic sell — ^i cure the mumps — 
I tomb-stones cut — I cut the rumps 
Of little school boy Jackies. 
Geography is my delight — . 
Ballads— epitaphs I write — 
Almanacs I can indite — 
Graves I dig compact and tight. 
At dusk by the iire, like a good jolly cook, 
When my days work is done and all over, 
I tipple, I smoke, and wind up the clock, 
With sweet mrs. Quotem in clover. — 
With ray amen, gaymen, 
Rum Quotem, 
Factotem ; 
Putty and lead ; 
Stumps, mumps, 
Bumps, rumps, 
Mortar he thumps; 
Jogging, flogging; 



WAGS OF WINDSOR. oj 

Sign post daiibeiy, 
Split crow or striiwberry ; 
Chimery, rhimery— 
Liquorish, stlckorish — 
ChJzzle, tomb — 
Frizzle tomb — 
Going, a going ! 
Squills, pills- 
Song inditing, 
Epitaph writing ; 

Steeple sound, 
.Corpse to ground; 

Windsor soap, 

Physic the pope ; 

Home hop. 

Shut up shop ; 

Punch bowl crockery, 

Wind up clockery.— 
Many small articles make up a hum; 
I dabble in all — I'm merry, and rum : 
And it is heigho ! for Caleb Quotem O \ 

SCENE II. 

The outer wall of mr. Deputy BulVs garden, 

A garden gate* 

Muter Lucy and John Lump, ffrowi the garden,) 

Lucy. Now be sure you make no mistake. 

Lump. Noa, I won't. 

Lucy, My young lady will never forgive you 
if you do— here's the letter—" To caplsun Beau- 



38 THE REVIEW, OR, THE [Cohnan, jr, 

gard, at mr. Quotems ;" you know the way — 
look at the direction, and — but can you read ? 

Lump. Yees — zure ; I can read any thing 
but writing hand and print — 1 say, mrs. Lucy, 
ben't all this about love ? 

Lucy. Pshaw ! what should you know about 
love. 

Lump, It comes nat'ral to a body — mrs. Lu- 
cy — hum — doan't you think I am prettyish? 

Lucy. Oh, you are a Doncaster angel. 

Lump. An angel ! — I'll be shot now if I han't 
been thinking the same of you — you'd make a 
sweet sign for a public house — I'll give her a ; 
kiss. 

Lucy. Well now go on your errand, and — 
what does the fool stand sniggering there, for I 

Lump, I won't go till you give I a smack, 

Lucy. Take it then (Ogives him a box on the 
ear,) \_txit Lucy, at the garden gate. 

Lump. 'Tware a right good douse of the chops, 
by gum ! 

Enter Looney Mactwolter, 

Loon. I woHder who it is I'm to find waiting 
for this letter, and — by the powers, its mr. 
Lump ! faith now, I'll give him a neat saluta- 
tion . 

Lump, (rubbing his cheek. J I wouldn't take 
such a knock on 'tother side, for two. pence. 

Loon, f comes behind Lump, and hits him A 
box on the ear, then bows. J How do you do, mr. 
Lump ? 

Lump. Dom thee what's that for? fgoinz t»^ 
strike, J ' ^-^^ - 



WAGS or WINDSOR, 39 

Loon. Then would you strike a harmless man 
©nthe king's highway, you house breaker! och, 
for shame ! 

Lumt). For she am ? wauns, I'll 

Loon. Take the letter, and hold your gab. 

Lump. Letter! 

Loon. Arrah, and is'nt it a letter? look at 
the back, see it's all waxy like a potatoe ; you 
have been waiting for it you know — it's for miss 
Disgrace Gay love, from Captain Beaugard my 
new master. 

Lump. From the captam ? then it saves I a 
walk — here be the answer, (gives a letter.) 

Loon. Lump, my honey, none of your blar- 
ney — don't I know the quakering lady wouid'nt 
hurry herself to answer a letter, before she re» 
ceived it, excepting sh^ wrote express. 
Lump. Why, man, this dunna come bythe post. 

Loon. Faith, that's true — that makes a big 
difference ;— but let's be sure all's right and 
tight, and that this is for my honor's master, 
the captain. 

Lump. Then do you read supscription. 

Loon. After you, if you please — 1 was learn'd 
to read by deputy. 

Lump. That's the way I was learn'd too. 

Loon, Arn't you asham'd of yourself, man, 
to be so ignorant; fie upon you, not to know B 

from a bull's foot — here, take back the -Eh ! 

by my soul, I've mix'd the two billy ducks ! I 
don't know which is itself — then sure the father 
of letters always had twins, for his four corner'd 
children are plaguily alike. Mr. Lump ! 



40 THE review; or, the iColmariijr. I 

Liimp. An an. 

Loott. Did you ever see a gentleman in bis 
waistcoat, that rides before the oatsideof a post 
chaise ? ^ 

Lump. Yees. 

Loon. There's one at the corner of the wall, 
ax him to misinterpret for us. 

Lump. Maphap he mayn't be able. 
Loon. Thunder and turf man ! havn't the 
tickets at the turnpikes, larn'd him his alphabet 
.—stop, a thought strikes me on the head. 

Lump. Does it ? dom, I hope it hurts — I 
ha've been struck on the he^d pretty tightish. 

Loon. Never mind, I'll charge you nothing 
for that, we are both employed — I take it to 
frustificate the schemes of ould Bull. 

Lump. Yeesj I be a cheating old measter— ^ 
miss Grace gived I a guinea for't — I loves to 
be honest to my employer. 

Loon. If we trust young leather hrogueS) 
there at the corner of the wall, won't he be af- 
ter telling of us ? 

Lump. Zure enough, there's no trusting one 

as deals in horses — I learned that in Yorkshire. 

Loon. Take me into the house, my honey, 

we'll ax the lady, or ould Bull, or any one else 

the meaning of this scribble scrabble. 

Lump. Done. 

Loon. Done : Jacky Lump ? shan't wq be 
friends ? 

Lump. I hates malice. 

Loon. That's right, you've got a damn'd bad 
plac€ that I lost, and I've got a goad one---but 



WAGS OF WINDSOR. 41 

to the devil I pitch revenge, for trifles : come, 
Jacky Lump ! we'll make friends over a sup, 
my jewel — steal a mug of your master's beer — 
damn the expense. [exit into garden. 



SCENE III. 

An apartment in Bull's house. 

Enter Grace Gaylove and IuVcy, 

Grace, Hast thou seen the man, Lump, with 
the letter I gave thee? 

Lucy, Oh, yes, ma'am. 

Grace. Think'st thou he will not blunder ? 

Lucy. Oh, no, ma'am, he's cunning enough 

Grace. True, knavery has set his hand-mark 
in that yorkshireman's face. 

Lucy. Yes, ma'm, but I tried to nih it out, 
just now at the garden-gate. 

Grace. How, Lucy I 

Lucy. With my own hand-mark, ma'am; I 
slapped his face, a saucy devil. 

Grace. I wonder Beaugard has not sent — I 
wrote to him that same letter to prevent mis- 
takes ; — but he promised intelligence this morn- 
ing. 

Lucy. *Tis early yet, ma'am — he'll send, de- 
pend upon it. 



42 THE review; or, the [Colman,jr» 

Grace. Moreover, he talked of a leather con- 
venience, to take me to the review ; after which, 
we were to cheat my guardian, that lusty de- 
puty, and be joined in wedlock. 

Deputy Bull fwithout,) 

Bull. Lump ! John Lump ! 

Lucys That's your guardian's voice, ma'am. 

Grace. I know it; for there's none resem- 
bling it in the house, excepting his coachman's 
raven. 

Enter Bull. 

Bull. Damn my new footman Lump ! I had 
rather put up with the old one, he was saucy, 
and stayed at home, this fellow's civil, but he's 
never to be found— Do you know where he iSj 
madam Grace ? 

Grace. Yea ? 

Bull. Yea? then where? 

Grace. Tell him, Lucy — I am aquaker — but 
thou art a chamber-maid, and may 'st lie for me. 

Lucy. Yes, ma'am — He's gone to — to— to 
feed the ducks, sir ? 

Bull. Damn the ducks ! I want him to feed 
me — why does he waddle off to the pond when 
I want my breakfast ? this is the review-day, 
and you've got the fellow out of the house that 
you may go a scampering, 

Lucy. My mistress does'nt love scampering, 
1 can assure you, sir 1 



WAGS OF WINDSOR. 43 

Bull, Does*nt she, then that's more than I 
can say of her maid — you broke down my goos- 
berry bush — dancing the hays in the kitching 
garden, with the tall apothecary. 

Enter Lump and Looney, following. 

Bull. Oh ! you're come at last ! you are 
plaguy fond of ducks I think. 

Lump* YeeS) zur, I loves 'em stufif'd with 
sage and onion, hugely ! 

Loon, I like 'em with a good potatoe pud- 
ding in their belly ! 

Bull. I'll teach you to go to my pond, you 
blockhead. 

Lump. Doan't ye trouble yotirself, zur^l 
knows the way. 

Lucy, (apart to Lump.) Have you carried 
the letter ? 

Lump . Noa ? 

Grace. Hast thou been treacherous then, 
friend ? 

Lump, Noa, I han't been at all. 

Bull, What the devil are you whispering a- 
bout ? let me know what, the — f going up t9 
them^ Looney Mactwolter comes between them, J 

Loon. Your servant, mr. Deputy Bull! 

Bull. Here's that infernal cow-doctor come 
again. 

Loon. What, and havn't I took leave of the 
cows, for the army ? 

Bull, You in the army I 



44 THE REVIEW, oRj THE [Colmau^ jr. 

Loon, Yes, I brush spatterdashes for a cap- 
tain. 

Bull, Then brush out of my house as' fast 
as you can ! 

Loon, I scorn to soil your dirty clean carpet 
— if I hadn't been bother'd about a bit of pa- 
per, because I can't read at this present writ- 
ing ; but you have made out cheating bills for 
your shop, you know, and can spell figs. 

Bull, Figsl there again! every body quizzes 
my origin. 

Loon. Shut your ugly mouth, and read me 
the outside kiver of this billy duck, (gives him 
the letter,) 

Bull. Why what's all this? — " To miss 
Grace Gaylove" — f opens it.) " Beaugard"— so, 
so. 

Loon. Faith, then I've got the wrong, give 
your's back to the quakering lady, mr. Lump. 

Lump, Yees. (offering it to Grace.) 

Bull. Mr, Lump shall give it to me, if he 
pleases, (snatches it, J 

Loon. Why, mr. Deputy Bull, would you be 
after robbing the mail ? 

Bull, " To Captain Beaugard," — and in her 
own hand.— Oh, you she devil of a quaker ! 

Grace, (apart.) We are betrayed, Lucy. 

Lucy, (apart,) Undone, ma'am ; these stu- 
pid blockheads 

Bull. Now for it. (reading Beaugard's letter.) 
" Dearest Grace," — oh, you abominable 1 but 
let me see— aye, " Grace" 



WAGS OF WINDSOR. 45 

Loon. Well, you've said grace, now fall too, 
mr. Deputy Bull. 

Bull, f reading. J " I tremble Irast the bearer 

of this should commit a blunder" 

Loon. Faith now, that is foolish of him enoughl 

Bull, f reading. J "You will find a post-chaise, 

waiting for you and Lucy at the garden 

wall." 

Grace, f apart. J That intelligence suiBceth. 
BiilL f reading on. J " Lose no time in getting 

into it," - 

Grace. We will follow thy council, (beckons 
Lucy, and they steal out, J 

Bull, (reading. J " For should old honey and 

treacle"- 

hoon. There's a sweet line ! 
luump. He, he ; why, zur, the captain has 
found out your old trade, zure enough. 

Bull. Hold your tongue, you scoundrel. 
(reads. J '' Take the alarm, all cur plans will 
miscarry.'* — Damn me, but they shall miscarry 1 
stay where you are, madam, till I read the 
other — aye ! (opening the other letter. J " Friend 
Beaugard, I am prepared to meet thee at the 
camp, and afterwards to attend thee to the 
church. I wait for news from thee to elude my 
foolish guardian." ** Foolish guardian." — not 
so foolish as you imagine ; but if you escape, 
I'll be bound to be calPd fool as long as 1 live. 
Vll teach yovL^Q'-^( turning round.) Eh 1— ^v/hy, 
zounds, she's gone !, 



46 THE review; or, the [Colman^jtt 

'Loon, Faith, she is! and you must be call'd 
fool as long as you live, mr. Deputy Bull. 

Bull, (calling,) Here — run — fly — order the 
coach to the camp ! — damn me, but I'll be first 
among the ranks ! — get the coach directly, you 
scoundrel — and you to be in a plot too, when I 
promis'd to reward you at christmas, you dog 1 

Lump* Yes, zo, you did zur — I hope you'll 
be as good as your word with me. 

Bull. Get out you rascal, and order the coach 
directly. [exit Lump. 

Loon, If you have a seat for me, mr. Deputy 
Bull, I'm after going your road. 

Bull, Get out of my house, you cursed hay- 
making, jacket-brushing, cow-physicing son of 
a . [exity driving him out. 



SCENE IV. 

Open country, &c. — View of the camp, -^Shouts 
at a distance. 

Enter Caleb Quotem. 

Quo. Bless me ! there*s a monstrous thfong! 
I've slipp'd thro' a crowd of my customers; 
damn'em I'm even with them, for they are al- 
ways slipping away from me ; there's the camp, 
the general camp — pioneers and all, as the po. 



WAGS OF WINDSOR* 47 

et says ; I like soldiers, they help grave-makers, 
only the letting off a gun makes me jump — I 
must get a good place — If I could find my lodg- 
er the captain, he'd 

Enter Beaugapd. 

Ha, talk of the devil— captain, your humble, as 
I say. 

Beau, f looking out. J I see nothing of Looney 
yet, nor the chaise. 

Quo. He does not hear me-r-captain, your 
servant. 

Beau. That irishman's as stupid as a post. 

Quo. And, I think you're as deaf as a post' — 
captain Beaugard, I 

Beau, fturning round. J Oh, mr. Quotem — 
this fellow at such a moment ! mr. Quotem, I 
—I am very busy here, and you must excuse 
me. (turns from him. J 

Quo. Cuts me, as Chaucer says — I hope he'll 
mind me a little more every Saturday, when I 
come for a week's lodging — how shall I get a 
good place without him? but I'll press perse- 
verence, that's the only way men get places at 
present. 

Enter Charles Williabis and Phcebe. 

Beau. What intelligence, Williams? 
Will, None your honor — but 'tis full early, 
all will go well I warrant. 



48 THE review; oRj the iColmanjjr, 

Beau. It goes well with you I sec^ you have 
brought your companion with you. 

Qmo. Oh ! that's the little cock-sparrow sol- 
dier I saw at my house. 

Phoe, We are so obliged to your honor 

Beau. Nay, no thanks now, my little Phcebe. 

Quo. Phcebe! 

Will. Heaven bless you, captain ! you have 
made me hapyy with the woman of my heart, 
and I hope to serve his majesty and your honor, j 
as long as I live. 5 

Qwo. Woman, zounds ! then the cock-spar- 
row's a hen, as the poet says — If you could put 

me in a good place to see review — captain 

(going up to him.) 

Beau, (pushing him away.) Damn it stand a- 
side — yonder she is in the post-chaise, and Lu- 
cy with her. (looking out.) 

Quo, A smart rebuff, that ; but persevere, 
it will always answer. 

Will. They are getting out of the carriage, 
your honor. 

Beau, And running towards us; nothing has 
happened, I hope to 

£nter Grace Gaylove and Lucy. 

Grace, (running to Beaugard.J Oh ! friend 
Beaugard ! 

Beau.. What's the matter! you are flurried, 
my love i 

Grace. We are pursued— my guardian 



WAGS OF WINDSOR. 49 

Beau. Discovered ! — confound him. 

Grace. I wish we could ; but will not he con- 
found us ? 

Lucy Oh, captain, there's the devil to pay— 
the deputy has found out all — he's close at our 
heels, followed by the Irish looby that made the 
mischief — here he comes, as I'm alive ! 

Beau, Courage! we can't retreat, so face the 
enemy boldly. 

Enter Deputy Bull* 

BulL Oh, you stealer of quakers ! 

Beau. What's the matter, sir ? 
.. Bull. Matter, sir! carries off an heiress^ and 
then asks what's the matter! — if there's law to 
be had— ^but come you home directly. 

Grace. Nay, friend Bull, 1 will not ; being in 
camp, I throw myself under military protection. 
^ Bull. You do! 

Lucy, Yes, sir ; my mistress and I are both 
under military protection. 

Bull, Here's impudence ! but I'll try the pow- 
er of the guardian. I will, captain, in spite of 
you and your myrmidons, your six-foot grena- 
diers, and damn'd Irish cow doctors I 

Enter Loonet Magtwolter» 

Loon. Be aisey, mr. Bull, among us gentle- 
men soldiers, or you'll see a fig-man toss'd in 
a blanket. 

o 



St THE review; OR THE [Colmati^jr. 

Bedu. Look you, sir, stormin|3^ will have little 
effect, the parlies ate agreed; agree quietly -with 
them, or we proceed, in spite of you, and a 
short time puts it out of your power. 

Bull. Why, there's some truth in that ; and 
if you hadn't went all about Windsor saying I 
was a grocer-, » 

Beau, Ha, ha ! you musn't believe reports, 
mr. Bull ; I never said nor intended to say, any 
thing you need be asham'd of 

Loon. I tell you man, he loves almonds and 
raisons, as well as I love whisky. 

BulL He has a damn'd sweet tooth of his own 
— but, there — I consent. 

Quo, So ! a marriage — .I'm parish clerk — a 
jobb for me, as tiie poet says. 

Grace, And now friend Bull, thou wilt be n© 
more troubled with a scampering quaker, 

{Drums roll.^ 

Beau. Hark, the drums beat ! the review is 
commencing. 

Q«^. If you could procure me a place cap» 
tain — 

^cflM. Well, well, I will procure you one. ' 

Qmo. There perseverance ! it always answers. 

Beau. And now I must to my post, 

{Drums' roll.) 

Th£ soldiers enter Jive deep — when they meet in 
the centrei 



WAGS or WINDSOR. 51 

[Drums roll again*) 

The soldiers then open to the right and left, 

(Drums roll again.) 

The soldiers then close again^ as before, 

[Drums roll again,) 

^ The soldiers then move across the stage and exit. 
Ml the characters then enter to the 

FINALE. 

Briskly beat the hollow drum I 
Merry see the soldier come I 

Pikes and halberts gleaming, 

Colors gaily streaming ; 

Troll the martial measure I 

Tis the soldier's pleasure ! 

Briskly beat the drum ! 

Soldiers know no sorrow ! 
We're merry men on english ground, a-ground, 

Careless of to-morrow ; 
We gail/ march the country round, around. 



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